What
We Build On
It was a brisk October day.
My breath hung in the air. Tourists huddled around me with their hands wedged
tightly in their coat pockets, and they breathed into the cold with pursed
lips. We stood there, feet grounded on the marble bricks outside the Historical
Society. Our tour leader greeted us. Frosty air rippled out in smoky chains
from her mouth as she spoke. “Shall we begin?” she asked. We smiled, mumbling
our agreements, and began our historical tour of Bascom. Bascom Hall, and the
Hill it sits on, has represented the regality of the University of Wisconsin
campus since its construction in 1857[1], but many forget about the
history beneath the hill. This is a
story of the silent, the overlooked—the invisible. This is a story of soil.
This is a story of what we build on
We made our strides in
long lunges as we hoisted our bodies up Bascom Hill. This was a story my legs
understood. This was a story of great energy. Roughly 18,000 years ago, the University
of Wisconsin campus was covered by a glacier; the same glacier that gave this
area its famous four lakes[2]. This monstrous slab of
ice shaped and deposited sand and gravel as its mass sloughed off and receded.
Bascom Hill is a glacial drumlin, and drumlins are historical compasses. They
point to the direction of glacial recession[3]. The long hill of Bascom
runs east to west and points to the eastward recession of the glacier thousands
of years ago. Figure 1 is a reconstruction of the glacial flow in Wisconsin,
and shows the east-west direction of ice flow near Dane County. This colossal
glacier left the rocky pile of parent material my legs were ascending that day,
but they also shaped the soils beneath my feet.
Figure 1: Reconstruction of
Glacial Ice Flow in Wisconsin.[4]
As
we ascended the hill we were oblivious to the change in soil as we climbed. As
our boot heels clanked on the marble slabs outside the historical society where
our journey began, they compressed, ever so slightly, the fertile organic
histosol soils underneath them[5]. Histosol
soils are oxygen deprived, which makes them incredibly productive for farming.
Oxygen normally aids in the breakdown of organic material, and the absence of
oxygen causes a thick organic hummus layer to form on the top of the soil[6]. This
oxygen restriction came from years of waterlogged soils, reminding us that
Madison was once covered in a menagerie of wetlands[7].
As we ascended, the soils changed to dryer less fertile soils on top the
glacial drumlin we know as Bascom. The rocky elevated landscape left by the
glacier made these soils immune from the effects of waterlogging for thousands
of years[8].
We slowed down and caught our breath at the feet of Abe Lincoln, where our tour
guide pointed out two modest tombstones, a few square inches each in size.
My feet became uneasy with the possibility of
what, or whom, they were compressing at that moment. Our tour guide told us the
story of two men, Samuel Warren (S.W.) and William Nelson (W.N.)—who were
accidentally exhumed from Bascom during the transplant of Abe Lincoln in 1918[10]. Bascom Hill was used as burial site by the German and English
settlers in the early 1800's, and these two men were unlucky enough to be
caught under the shovels of the excavators. The cadavers were reburied under
the feet of Abe Lincoln, and were forgotten under the soil. Samuel and William
were not the only bodies forgotten under the soil in Bascom however.
Before Bascom was
delicately smoothed over by the university, the hill was originally
"tangle of blackberry bushes frequented by bears and rattlesnakes" as
documented by pioneer woman Rosalina Peck in 1837[11]. This landscape was made
rough by the vegetation, but also had a rough, uneven surface. The original
uneven surface would not only be the mark of nature’s chaotic tendencies, but
also the intent of humans.
Prior to (and after)
European settlement of the Madison region, Ho-Chunk Indians (also referred to
as Winnebago) lived on the fertile wetlands surrounding the five lakes[12]. These lakes would have
been a life giving presence for the native populations, and they treated them
as such. It was Ho-Chunk belief that a water-panther spirit resided in Lake Mendota.
In honor of this water spirit, the Ho-Chunk built a burial mound in the shape
of a panther on the Bascom Hill[13]. It was this memorial mound that
was smoothed over to make the hill the sloping giant it is today.
Figure 3: Sign of
campaign to ‘fill the hill’[14].
Bascom Hall has long
been cherished for years as a place of tradition and community at the
university. As we walked, we passed charity signs for UW donations that marched
up with us along the hill, but this time they felt much more ominous and
satirical. “Share the hill!” they proclaimed. “Fill the hill!” shouted another (Figure 3). What they meant,
was, to fill the hill with pink flamingos that represented donations to the
university, but knowing what the hill was actually
filled with added a melancholy reminder of
our deep, fostered ignorance of the history of
the hill. I lingered on this thought as my legs made the last contractions up Bascom Hill. Step 1.
Step 2. Step 3. We turned around to view the beautiful cityscape.
Figure
3: View from Bascom[15]
The
view from Bascom is a beautiful, symmetrical world of brick and concrete. The
nature contained there is tightly manicured for visual aesthetic. But these
manicured trees and plants remind us of the potential under the concrete. These
trees remind us of the life in the soils we have covered and tunneled under--the land that the city obscures.
In
1850, the fertile histosol soils of the Madison lowlands were not paved over,
but were farmed. Figure 4 shows a similar view of the city from Bascom, but in
this painting we see a much different landscape. It wove the pastoral and the
urban. In Figure 5 a farmhouse sits on the main
road. The
fence surrounding this house suggests the land was used for farming or grazing.
This farm’s close proximity to the road indicates a need for fast travel of
time-precious meat, milk or vegetables for transport; goods that were probably
locally produced and consumed. It was not completely out of choice that this
patchwork of landscapes existed in the same place, but
also necessity.
also necessity.
Figure
4: View of Capitol from Bascom area in 1865[16]
Figure 5: View of
Bascom and Surrounding Farms (1865)[17]
Transportation
affected how people and goods moved in Madison. During 1865, residents got
around the city by foot or by horse and buggy. In Figure 4 the wide streets are carved with ruts from wagon wheels that traveled through the city. The road in Figure 5 is
likely also a wagon road. While horse and buggy worked for much of the local
transportation, long distance travel became available through Madison’s Rail system
(Figure 6). While this rail system initially only connected Madison and nearby
Watertown, it later would grow and deepen Madison’s ability to use distant
trade for its sustenance.
As
railroad and automotive technologies grew, the city was able to become more and
more reliant upon shipped goods. This allowed the city to grow onto the rural
landscape, which in return deepened its dependence on imports. Today, the University’s cityscape is a
reminder of our dependence of outside markets. The farm houses in Figure 5 and
the fertile soils they rested on are now completely obscured with city
buildings and houses, presupposing an ability to live without local farmland.
The view now reminds us of the history of campus, but silences our
understanding of our ecological relationship to the soil. As we looked out over
this world of brick and concrete, we saw the crown of the capitol building
peaking out over the horizon.
Our tour guide pointed
her finger over to the capitol. The building has the same Greco-Roman style as
Bascom. This represents not only the period of Greek revival during the
mid-1800’s when both buildings were originally built[19], but the intended
conversation between the two buildings. Their marble crown tops and columned
mouths watch at each other across State Street. They are able to ‘see’ each
other because they sit atop hills that overlook Madison—physically and
metaphorically representing the two great superpowers in Madison.
“There was not
originally a hill at the capitol building” our tour guide began. “They used
dirt from around the area to build the hill”. I thought about the intended
conversation even more. The state set out to make these two buildings talk,
even if the hills they sat on needed to be fabricated to talk to allow it.
“Where do you think they got the dirt?” She asked. We looked at her, not
knowing, or not wanting to know, the answer to her rhetorical question. “From
the burial mounds surrounding the area!” she exclaimed. A deep discomfort
knotted inside me.
The tour was a haunted
tour of Madison, but it was not the ghosts or the dead that haunted me. It was
my complete ignorance of them—of the history hidden beneath my feet. I could not
help but think of the Capitol Building and Bascom compressing the organic
compost of bodies down into the soil. I could not help but to think of the
cadavers, the culture, and the history of the Ho-Chunk Indians we paved over
for this campus. I was not haunted by apparitions, for it was not my ability to
see these people that haunted me, it was my complete oblivion to them that
scared me most. Now as I look up at the
regal height of Bascom, I do not only see the story of the university. I see
the stories of the silent, the overlooked and the invisible. I see the stories of
the soil. I see what we build on.
References
Barber, John
and Howe, Henry. Authors. “The Loyal West in the Times of the Rebellion”. Photograph. From Wikipedia Commons. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Madison_WI_Barber_1865p439cropped.jpg#filehistory. (Accessed
September 23, 2013)
Bennett, Matthew, and Neil F. Glasser. Glacial
geology: ice sheets and landforms. 2nd ed. Chichester, UK: Wiley-Blackwell,
2009.
Birmingham, Robert A., and Katherine H.
Rankin. Native American mounds in Madison and Dane County. Madison,
Wis.: City of Madison and the Native American Center, 1994.
Colton, J. H. Author. Watertown and
Madison RR. Print. From Wisconsin Historical Society. http://preview.wisconsinhistory.org/Content.aspx?dsNav=Ny:True,Nrc:id-4294966726,N:4294963828-4294955414&dsNavOnly=Ny:True,N:4294966724&dsRecordDetails=R:IM90122 (Accessed
September 23, 2013)
David, Mickelson. "Who knew?."
(Dec. 12, 2000). http://www.news.wisc.edu/5643 (accessed November 18, 2013).
Fuller, John S,
Photographer. [First Three Buildings
on the University of Wisconsin-Madison Campus] Photograph. From Wisconsin
Historical Society Fuller, John S., 1815-1902 : Madison, Wisconsin,
cartes-de-visite, ca. 1860-ca. 1870. http://preview.wisconsinhistory.org/Content.aspx?dsNav=Ny:True,Nrc:id-4294966726,N:4294963828-4294955414&dsNavOnly=Ny:True,N:4294966724&dsRecordDetails=R:IM1885
(Accessed September 23, 2013)
General Land Office. Plat Map Sketch of Madison Area. Dec 1834.
Wisconsin Historical Society. http://digicoll.library.wisc.edu/cgi-bin/SurveyNotes/SurveyNotes-idx?type=article&dtype=Sketch+Map&twp=T007NR009E
Natural Resources Conservation Service.
"Histosols." NRCS Soils.
http://soils.usda.gov/technical/classification/orders/histosols.html (accessed
November 19, 2013).
Kondreck, Robert , Zelenda Koch, and Jim
Gutkowski. "Wisconsin Galciation as seen in Jefferson County: The Hausz
Brothers Quarry." Wisconsin Galciation as seen in Jefferson County: The
Hausz Brothers Quarry.
http://www4.uwm.edu/letsci/geosciences/trips_tours/ugfc/wi_glaciation/WI_glaciation.html
(accessed November 18, 2013).
Rath, Jay. "Bascom Hill: Old haunt
or still haunted?." Wisconsin State Journal, October 24, 1988.
Rath, Jay. "The Haunting of Bascom
Hill." Madison Magazine, September 1992.
Silverman, Claire. “Evolving from Indian
mounds to flamingos” The Herald, May 7,
1983.
University of Wisconsin. "Bascom
Hall." Wisc.edu. http://www2.fpm.wisc.edu/ppnew/featurebldg/pdf/bascom.pdf
(accessed November 24, 2013).
[1] University
of Wisconsin "Bascom Hall." Wisc.edu. University of Wisconsin,
n.d. Web. 24 Nov. 2013.
http://www2.fpm.wisc.edu/ppnew/featurebldg/pdf/bascom.pdf.
[2] Mickelson, David. [Interview] Who Knew? (2000) http://www.news.wisc.edu/5643 (accessed November 18,
2013).
[4]
Kondreck, Robert. Koch, Zelenda. Gutkowski, Jim. “Wisconsin Glaciation as seen
in Jefferson County: The Hausz Brothers Quary”
[5]
See Appendix images 2 and 3 for detailed maps describing the area’s soils.
[7] General
Land Office. Plat Map Sketch of Madison
Area. Dec 1834. Wisconsin Historical Society. http://digicoll.library.wisc.edu/cgi-bin/SurveyNotes/SurveyNotes-idx?type=article&dtype=Sketch+Map&twp=T007NR009E
(photo of map in appendix, item 1)
[8] These effects can be seen by comparing the
percentage of organic matter across the soils. One can see on the topographical
map of Madison that the areas of high altitude also tend to be areas of low
organic matter. In particular, there was a fertile cresent of delicate organic
rich soils that swept southward from lake Monona, with 90 percent organic
matter contained within them.
[9]
Bascom Tombstones. Personal photograph by author. November 2013.
[11]
Silverman, Claire. “Evolving from Indian mounds to flamingos” The Herald, May 7, 1983.
[12] Birmingham,
Robert A., and Katherine H. Rankin. Native American mounds in Madison
and Dane County. Madison, Wis.: City of Madison and the Native American
Center, 1994. http://www.wisconsinhistory.org/madison/madisonmounds.pdf
[13]
Silverman, Claire. “Evolving from Indian mounds to flamingos” The Herald, May 7, 1983.
[14]
“Fill the Hill” Personal photograph by author. November 2013.
[15]
View from Bascom. Personal photograph by author. September 2013.
[16] Barber,
John and Howe, Henry. Authors. “The Loyal West in the Times of the Rebellion”. Photograph. From Wikipedia Commons. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Madison_WI_Barber_1865p439cropped.jpg#filehistory. (Accessed September
23, 2013)
[17] Fuller, John S,
Photographer. [First Three Buildings
on the University of Wisconsin-Madison Campus] Photograph. From Wisconsin
Historical Society Fuller, John S., 1815-1902 : Madison, Wisconsin,
cartes-de-visite, ca. 1860-ca. 1870. http://preview.wisconsinhistory.org/Content.aspx?dsNav=Ny:True,Nrc:id-4294966726,N:4294963828-4294955414&dsNavOnly=Ny:True,N:4294966724&dsRecordDetails=R:IM1885 (Accessed
September 23, 2013)
[18] Colton, J. H. Author. Watertown and Madison RR. Print. From Wisconsin Historical Society.
http://preview.wisconsinhistory.org/Content.aspx?dsNav=Ny:True,Nrc:id-4294966726,N:4294963828-4294955414&dsNavOnly=Ny:True,N:4294966724&dsRecordDetails=R:IM90122 (Accessed
September 23, 2013)
[19]
Although both the capitol and Bascom have gone through renovations and
rebuilding.
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